


What the Pig Did

by redeem147



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Sexual Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:57:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redeem147/pseuds/redeem147
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Gordo is mortified I'm sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Pig Did

Buffy pulled off her tank top, and Spike deftly undid the bra clasp on her back with one hand. “So, Little Bit’s at a friend’s for the night?”

 

“Um, hmm,” she replied, as she undid his belt buckle. “Not sure where Willow is, though.” She helped him wriggle out of his jeans.

 

“So, Red could walk in at any time.” He threw her panties into the corner of her room.

 

“Wonder what she’d say.” She pushed him back onto the bed.

 

“Maybe she’d like to join us,” Spike leered.

 

“You are such a pig!” she exclaimed, as he flipped her over onto her back.

 

“No,” he said, picking the toy off her dresser, “This is a pig.” Mr. Gordo walked slowly down Buffy’s midriff, stopping to dig his front hoof into her navel. She giggled. He continued his journey down her body, then buried his snout in her curls.

 

“What’s he doing?” Buffy laughed.

 

“Diggin’ for truffles,” her lover replied. As the pig rubbed his flat nose back and forth, Buffy moaned.

 

“Oh,” she panted, “That’s so soft, and so firm, and so... nice.”

 

“I think you like my little friend more than me,” Spike pouted.

 

“I’ll show you like,” Buffy said, taking the pig from his hand and flipping Spike onto his back. She placed the pig on his chest and climbed onto the vampire, forcing her body down onto him. “Mr. Gordo wants to see the expression on your face.” She rocked forward and back.

 

“There’s a reason little girls like pony rides,” Spike moaned.

 

“So, it seems do little boys,” Buffy replied. “And little pigs,” as the stuffed toy bounced up and down in rhythm.

 

As their movement increased, they lost the words, and rode to a climax. Buffy flopped onto her back and stretched her legs onto his chest, picking up the pig between her knees, keeping Spike inside her. “I need a cigarette,” he exclaimed.

 

She pulled back from him with regret. “And my room will smell smoky, and the others will know you were here.” She tossed the pig up and down. “C’est la vie.”

 

“I didn’t know you spoke French,” he said, reaching over the edge of the bed to retrieve his lighter and battered pack of Morleys. He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

 

“I’ll show you French.” She took the cigarette from his hand and inhaled the smoke, then leaned towards his face, crushing the little pig between their chests. She placed her mouth on his and expelled the smoke deep into his lungs.

 

His eyes opened wide. “That’s not your first fag,” he exclaimed.

 

“What?” she replied. “Oh, you mean the cigarette.” She placed it back between his fingers and kissed him, tasting the smoke on his tongue. “I have many secrets.”

 

His hand dangled over the edge of the bed. “I can see that, love.”

 

She looked over the edge. “I’m sorry sir,” she said, “But your frog is on fire.”

 

“Wah?” He followed her eyes to the floor to see a stuffed frog smoldering where his ember had landed. “Bloody hell, Slayer, you have way too many stuffed toys for a girl in her twenties.” He picked up the frog and beat in out on the blanket. “What the hell is this stupid thing, anyway?”

 

“That’s Mr. Hoppy,” she replied. “Riley gave it to me. You may burn it to a crisp.”

 

“Mr. Hoppy, eh?” He held the burning cigarette in front of the frog. “Ve haff vays of makin’ you talk, you svine.”

 

She wiggled the pig in her hand. “Hey, watch with the swine talk. Oink.”

 

“Sorry. Ve haff vays of makin’ you talk, you frog. Von’t talk, eh?” He pressed the burning butt between the frog’s eyes, leaving a brown edged hole. “Die, frog, die.” He pounded the green toy on the bed, then threw it over the edge. “So much for the soddin’ frog.” He smiled at Buffy as he snuffed out his cigarette on her dresser top. “So, Slayer, ready for the next round?”

 

“I am,” she yawned, “But Mr. Gordo’s tired.” She wrapped her arms around Spike with the stuffed toy between them, and started to drift off.

 

“What if Red comes home?” he asked, closing his eyes.

 

“Let her get her own pig,” she replied softly, as they both fell asleep.


End file.
